


When I Grow Up

by Mattycakes



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 09:40:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12861843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mattycakes/pseuds/Mattycakes
Summary: A short, fluffy drabble where Tweek and Craig talk about their assignment 'What I Want to Be When I Grow Up'(set after Tweek x Craig, very much inspired by E8S14 "Poor and Stupid")





	When I Grow Up

Craig caught up with his boyfriend after school, and was immediately disheartened by the gloomy storm cloud hanging over Tweek’s head. 

“What’s up with you?” Craig asked, falling into step beside Tweek.

“Nothing. Just thinking about the homework assignment,” Tweek replied, tugging absently at a frayed lock of hair.

Craig frowned, pulling Tweek’s hand away gently and hanging on to it. Homework sucked, but it didn’t usually bum Tweek out like this. “‘What I Want to Be When I Grow Up?’ I wonder how many times they’re going to set that assignment. I’ve handed in the exact same paper about wanting to be an astronaut like four times and they’ve never noticed.” 

Tweek managed a smile. “Man, I should’ve done that. I can’t even remember what I wrote last time. Now I have to think of something new.”

“It’s not like you have to _think_ of anything, just write a short page about whatever you want to be when you grow up. It shouldn’t take long,” Craig paused. “What _do_ you want to be when you grow up?”

Tweek’s lips thinned into a straight line and his right side gave a quick spasm. 

“What? Is it embarrassing?” Craig asked, watching his boyfriend’s eye flutter involuntarily. Craig was going to do everything in his power to make sure Tweek never played poker. 

“Come on, you can tell me,” Craig wheedled, and Tweek shook his head. “Ballerina?” Craig guessed, making Tweek roll his eyes. “Rock star? _Porn_ star?”

“You’re way off,” Tweek said, entertaining the game despite his mood. “It’s not an embarrassing job to want to do, it’s just not something you could picture me doing.” 

“Hair stylist?” Craig suggested, eyeing Tweek’s disheveled mane and earning himself a withering glare. 

“…Uhwunnabeasssykyatryst,” Tweek said in a rush.

“Pardon?” Craig prompted. 

“I want… when I grow up, I want to be a psychiatrist,” Tweek said softly, feeling his eye twitch with discomfort at the admission. "I know, it's ridiculous," he added, kicking at the snow.

Craig kept walking silently beside Tweek for a moment, then asked, “You like psychology?” 

Tweek pulled again at his hair, and Craig swatted his hand away. Tweek’s hair wouldn’t be so uneven if he didn’t keep pulling bits out. 

“Yeah, I mean, I get good marks in science, and I’ve researched anxiety disorders and stuff for myself, and I thought it was all really interesting,” Tweek said, looking at Craig warily, like he still wasn’t entirely sure Craig wasn’t going to laugh. “I’ve also read a bit about other disorders and treatments, just because it’s kind of nice to learn about stuff other people are going through. It makes me feel less alone,” Tweek mumbled awkwardly, feeling himself blush. “And it makes me feel like I want to do something with my life to help people like me, so that other kids don’t have to grow up feeling like I feel half the time.”

“So, why can’t you just write that?” Craig asked.

Tweek laughed hollowly. “Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?”

“That. Pretending like my anxiety isn’t a problem. It doesn’t make me feel better. It actually kind of pisses me off.” Tweek’s glare had returned. “Nobody would want someone like me as a psychiatrist,” he said bitterly, his body giving a sudden involuntary spasm as if to punctuate Tweek’s point. “And that's assuming I even have what it takes to become one in the first place, which I clearly don't." 

Craig stared at his boyfriend, wishing not for the first time that he had some kind of magic mind sharing device, with which Craig could finally show Tweek what he looked like through Craig's eyes. Craig was convinced that if Tweek could just see himself like Craig saw him, he'd stop putting himself down and telling himself he wasn't capable of anything. Tweek thought of himself as weak, but Craig genuinely thought Tweek was one of the strongest people he'd ever met.

"Look, I really don’t want to be laughed at when we read our papers aloud. The whole thing is scary enough already. I just have to think of something else to pretend to want to be," Tweek said sadly, and Craig didn't have a magic mind sharing device on him, but dammit if he wasn't going to try. 

“Tweek, I'm not an expert, but I’m pretty sure the field of psychiatry isn’t limited to just sitting in a room listening to people bitch about their problems,” Craig said, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. “There’s research and teaching and all kinds of stuff you can do. You’re smart, you’re interested in the material and you have personal insight into the subject. Most importantly it’s something you clearly care about. You can study it. I think you’d be really good at it.”

Tweek lifted his hand as though he were about to pull at his hair again, but then hesitated and scratched absently at his ear instead. “You really think so?” he asked in a small voice. 

Craig nodded, thinking hopefully that perhaps a magical mind-sharing device wasn't required after all. “I do," he said honestly, "I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all. I think it’s great.”

Tweek swallowed the rising emotion in his throat and leaned into his boyfriend’s side. “Thank you,” Tweek said quietly. Then, he smiled and added “Do you think you can help me write some of this down?”


End file.
